


Differently or Maybe Even For The First Time

by castielnov4k



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ableist Language, Bisexual Dean, By the hot dude at the bar, Dean's distracted, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post Season 10, Sam's researching what's new, post moc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:50:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielnov4k/pseuds/castielnov4k





	Differently or Maybe Even For The First Time

Sam crossed out yet another story he thought had been a potential case, the pen scratching against the thin paper. He rolled the ballpoint between his long fingers, studying the articles in front of him.

"Couple brutally murdered in their home of nine years," Sam mulled out loud, creasing his forehead. "Doors were locked, no sign of forced entry... oh, but the daughter said their spare key was missing when she got home. Probably just some psycho killer on the loose. Right?"

Sam's looked up. His brother wasn't looking at him.

"Dean!" 

"Huh?" Dean said thickly. "What?"

Sam sighed. "Nothing. It's nothing." Sam tossed the pen down on the newspaper. The sharp resulting _clack_ disturbed a couple of the people at surrounding tables. It was still early, so the bar wasn't rowdy yet, but there was the odd individual milling around. Some sitting in rumpled business attire and nursing beers, others casting contemplative looks towards the pool table.

"Maybe we could make some money tonight," Sam offered, noticing their interest. Dean gave a non-committal grunt. Sam returned his attention to the newspaper, flicking through the pages until something caught his eye.

"Three victims, teenagers, all from the same school," Sam muttered, rubbing his mouth. "I don't know if - oh. Yeah this is something. We need to check this out. We should get going now, we can rustle up funds another time." Sam looked up again. "Hey!"

Sam kicked Dean under the table. Dean jumped, cursing, and then stared at him indignantly.

"What was that for?" he demanded. 

"What's going on with you? Why are you so distracted tonight?" 

"What?" Dean replied. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not. Sorry. What have you got?"

Sam gave a satisfied tip of his head, and read from the article, "'Tiffany Campbell, Mark Gold, and Georgia Dann, all students of St Mary's Secondary School, found dead within two weeks.' Hearts ripped from their chests. Sounds like a pretty run-of-the-mill werewol..."

Sam trailed off, for Dean's attention had been lost yet again, focused on the bar. Sam's eyes followed the line of his brother's gaze, landing on a man in his thirties, sitting alone. He was dressed in a grey button-up shirt over black trousers, his suit jacket draped over the back of his chair. Dark, close-cropped hair framed his sharply defined features. He was swirling the remainder of his scotch around and around in his glass with one hand, but his attention was on Dean. 

Sam watched, incredulous, as the man raised the glass a little and winked at Dean, taking a sip. Sam could have sworn his jaw actually dropped to the floor when he saw Dean drop his head shyly in response, lips twitching into a soft smile. The man smirked.

Sam saw Dean startle when he encountered the intensity of Sam's glare, and turn a deep shade of magenta. He inhaled and closed this eyes.

"Alright, now before you go all 'Sam' and make a big deal out of this-" Dean began, gesturing in Sam's direction. 

"When did - THIS - become a thing?!" Sam interrupted loudly, and Dean winced. Sam glanced around him self-consciously and tried to lower his voice.

"I don't know Sam," Dean mumbled. "It's always been a thing, a part of me, I just never really... ugh I can't believe we're having this conversation right now... I've never really 'explored' it before. God I feel like a teenager." Dean shook his head and took a swig from his beer. 

"Huh." Sam sat back in his chair. 

"And then the Mark of Cain happened," Dean continued, flicking a glance towards his forearm. "And I realised I didn't want to go out never experiencing this. So here I am, Mark off my arm, and I'm 'exploring'."

"Well that's great Dean," Sam replied wryly, with a touch of sincerity. "But right now we've got three teens with their hearts ripped out that we should probably 'explore' first, what do you say?"

Dean cleared his throat, looking relieved to be off the topic. "Right, yeah. I'm all ears."


End file.
